Father Hunt or a Family Affair
by Lady Arabella Malfoy
Summary: [Nero Wolve] Archie faces his most difficult case yet... finding out, who the father of Lily's baby is.


**A/N: Why in the world am I posting the story, who is nobody going to read, particularly since I have other fics on my computer, that I should have finished ages ago.**

 **I have a very old and deep connection to Nero Wolve mysteries, to Archie Goodwin in particular. So I had a bit of a writers' block and slight depression, and Rex Staut's stories and TV series "Nero Wolfe Mystery" are the best cure from that. While I was watching "Champagne for One" and "Christmas Party", an idea crept into my head and didn't want to leave even if there is no separate Nero Wolve category on .**

 **A bit on explanation. For the purpose of this story Saul is a bachelor as he is in the later novels. All characters are ageless in Rex Staut's novels, but there is actually a time continuum at times. There are several references in this fic to different Nero Wolve novels (including the titles, obviously), but I didn't mark them separately, because there is too many of them, and I am not sure about the exact stories the references come from.**

 **So… in the beginning of this fic Archie is 37 and Lily is 32. Since it is known that Archie was born in 1914, the time of the fic should be happening in the 1950s, which is not actually important. What is important that the fic is happening after all the written novels/stories, including Robert Goldsborough novels that will also be referenced to a degree.**

 **Father Hunt or a Family Business**

 **By Lady Arabella Malfoy**

I've never dropped unannounced on Lily before. We always contact each other via telephone, in person or even by telegram to make plans. But I have been out of town for the last five months on a… case, I swore not to tell a soul about, so I after dropping my things at the brownstone, I flew (almost going over the speed limit) to the apartment building that had Lily's penthouse.

It is four thirty in the evening so she could've easily gone out, but my gut is telling me, she is in (and the watchman downstairs told me, she hasn't gone out today, so I am definitely in the clear). I ring the doorbell, feeling the painfully familiar texture of the smooth metal, polished by hundreds of callers, with me making up a large portion of those. So I push be bell and wait, bouncing on my feet like a giddy teenager on his first date. But nobody answers the door. I call again, my mood plummeting with the speed of the elevator that brought me up. Something is not right and I don't even need my gut feeling to confirm that.

I call the last time just before I use my own key which I never do, but since even Mimi isn't answering the door (Lily _could be_ in bed, indisposed or some such) and I _really_ want to see Lily tonight no matter her condition (and I've seen her in all possible states). My key is almost in the keyhole, when I hear shuffling behind the door and the click of the lock opening.

There is no jumping into my arms, no squeal of 'Escamillo!' that she still calls me, because it is our thing, just flat "Oh, it's you, Archie, come in." What is going on?! And so I enter in hope that the mystery will solve itself in a moment, well, maybe two.

"When did you get back?" Lily asks in the same flat tone.

I admit, I am at fault for not upholding communications during the last months, but I simply couldn't risk… So yes, Lily has all the right to be pissed off at me, though she doesn't sound pissed or angry, she seems completely disinterested in her guest (and not because she hasn't offered me a drink since she knows my preferences without any need to ask), she isn't even _looking_ at me, busy sorting some knick-knacks on the bookshelf.

"Two hours ago."

"Oh? Should I be flattered by such hurried visitation? Shouldn't you first be reporting to Mister Wolfe about your… case? Oh, wait, he is with his orchids right now, so you had a couple of hours to kill."

She finally turns around to pierce me with her baby blues and even if usually they are clear as the summer sky, at this very moment that are as cold as Antarctic ice. But anger is still an improvement on indifference.

"What is going on, Lily?"

" _You_ are the detective, why don't you detect it yourself?"

I do a sweep of the room out of professional habit, but clearly the reason of Lily's hostility is not my inattention to comment on her newly acquired painting or a piece of furniture. My inquiring eyes return to the mistress of the house, who, after closer examination, doesn't look as such at the moment. Despite it being almost five in the evening, her hair is free from any styled haircut, her clothes look comfortable, but Lily Rowan wouldn't ever be caught wearing something like this outside her bedroom. The ensemble is finished by a loose cardigan that makes Lily look rather… fat. Which is completely ridiculous unless… The slow and cautious pace of her movements around the room, the absence of footwear, bulgy, styless clothes… I force myself to bring my glance down to Lily's stomach. The cardigan is several sizes larger, but it can't hide the characteristic bump that can be interpreted in only one way.

"Are you?.." I can't even say the word, it is stuck somewhere in my throat like a bullet that taken out would make me bleed to death.

"Yes." A statement of fact, a perfectly cooperative witness in her own investigation.

"For how long?"

"Almost four months."

…..

I don't remember how I arrive at the West 35th Street, I must've paid the taxi driver since no one deterred me from coming up onto the porch. The skirr of the ascending lift works as an alarm clock for my Lily's condition induced coma. I snap out of it only now noticing a half empty bottle of whiskey on my table. When did _that_ happen?

"Oh, Archie, you are back. Have you eaten?"

I watch with strange detachment as Wolfe gets his one seventh of a ton into the specially designed chair and calls for beer. I've watched these actions thousands of times through the years of occupying the table I am sitting behind at this very moment, but nothing registers. I feel as if I am watching a movie about a completely different world, world I am not a part of anymore, because my world as it is, has been destroyed.

"Lily is pregnant." There, I said it. First step to recovery is conquered, but it doesn't make me feel any better.

"Well, no one can stop the natural order of things. Should we send a congratulatory card? I doubt, we will be invited to the wedding, not that I am planning on going, but-"

What has been that sound just now? That howl of a wounded animal? Was that _me_? Wolfe is looking at me. His bulging eyes look rather comical, I would laugh if not for the tears, prickling at the corners of my eyes. When was the last time I actually cried? As a boy? Why does this even matter right now?

"Are you alright, Archie? You definitely need to eat. Fritz has a wonderful-"

"Oh for the love of -" I don't finish my opening statement because, well, I have no idea how nor do I care. What I care about is the bottle that will surely be completely empty in the very near future.

…

I wake up to the sound of a hammer hitting the anvil. At least the anvil has somehow found its way into my head, the origin of the hammer is soon to be determined. Or not, since I have no wish to get out of my bed (at least I had enough sense in me to pass out on the bed and not the floor.)

"Archie, this is Saul. May I come in?"

What in the world? What is Saul doing here? I grunt something incomprehensible, at least to me, since Saul interprets it as permission to enter my humble abode.

"Here. Fritz says, it's a miracle cure for any hangover."

I stare at the glass with the green liquid or as much as I manage to stare with my eyelids half open or half closed take your pick. Thankfully, the curtains are still down. Don't want to blind my half 'insert you choice here', not that there is much to see anymore.

"Thank you." This is me. Croaking like a really ugly toad. No, a dead one.

"Thank Fritz later, I am just a delivery boy."

"So why the career change? And at this ungodly hour?"

"Not as ungodly, it's almost noon. And Mister Wolfe called. Asked me to help with your… personal crisis."

My head has cleared enough to make a snarky comment. "You?! Of all people -"

"Do you consider me incapable of giving advice on personal matters? Only professional ones?"

Seems that Saul is ganging up on me too. Of course, hangover is not an excuse to snap at an old time friend. "Errr, it's just I've never actually seen you with a woman before. Frankly, I thought, you… have other preferences."

Good old Saul. Look at that cheeky bastard's smile. A rare sight indeed. Well, at least one of us can see a funny side of the situation.

"No, Archie, I don't flirt with every skirt like someone I know, but it doesn't mean I do not entertain female company. On a rare occasion."

"Why rare? You are quite a catch."

"I prefer it this way. But today it is not about me, it is about you. So what made the unflappable Archie Goodwin drink himself into a stupor after his glorious return home from a five month long top secret case nobody knows anything about?"

"If you are fishing for information on the case, I'm not going to tell you."

"I don't care about the _case_ , Archie, I care about your well being. So what's going on?"

"Wolfe didn't tell you?"

"In general terms."

"Which are?"

"You need to tell me yourself."

Easier said than done. But I have already voiced it out loud yesterday, I can repeat it again. I've already admitted that the problem exists, so I can do it again. But what _is_ the problem?

"Lily is four months pregnant." There. I said it. No stammering. No pauses, a fluent, grammatically correct sentence in a neutral tone. A statement of fact. No emotion whatsoever. So why does my hand itches for the tumbler to be full again?

"So that's why he called _me_ …"

"Pardon?"

"Mister Wolfe has known me for many years…"

"You mean to tell me there is something I don't know about you?"

"I don't know everything about you either, Archie."

"I doubt that."

"Oh, believe me, I don't. We wouldn't be having this conversation if I knew that your breakdown was caused only be a bruised ego. I know you enough to suspect otherwise, but it is you, who still holds all the cards."

"This isn't a _game_ , Saul. This is serious!"

"Exactly. You need to talk to me."

"Why _you_?"

"Still got your touch, Archie. I hoped, I will leave with my pride unscathed, but I do understand: you can't feel comfortable otherwise. It's a rather long story…"

"Take a sit, but don't go over an hour, I don't have much cash on me, only about eighty bucks."

"Please, Archie. I am not going to ask money for my life story. _Or_ for trying to help you to overcome your 'personal crisis' as it is.

" So… The truth is, I came to New York to study music. A provincial boy, barely eighteen, I was accepted into a prestigious school with a scholarship awarded only to the most talented of students. My piano playing technique and ability to almost instantly remember and recall hundreds of pages of sheet music brought to me the attention of the faculty and students. The concerts were lined up one after the other, I was considered the star of the school. In my second year I met a girl, we were crazy about each other, engaged to be married… Life couldn't be better.

"But then there was a freak accident. My friends and I were spending a weekend out of town and somehow a heavy bookcase fell down. I avoided most of it, but it crushed three fingers on my left hand. The ambulance came soon, but not soon enough. The fingers were set and healed well, but my life as a pianist was finished. I was expelled from the school, but what hurt much more was that the girl, I was planning to spend the rest of my life with, tossed me aside for the next popular guy the moment I tumbled from the top and not because of my own actions or inadequacy.

"I ended up on the streets. Those were some really dark years of my life, but I learned to use my remaining skills, first for survival, and then in detective work, which was a completely unexpected career choice, but I do not regret it."

I've known Saul for close to twenty years, almost half of my life, and I've never heard his story before. I always thought being a private investigator was Saul's true calling, right from the start, maybe even since his days as a teenager. Although, I doubt, there exists a PI, who has a grand piano in his living room and can play it too.

"So what's the moral of your tale, Saul?"

"You made your choice to take that job and leave town. She made her choice to become pregnant. Such betrayal _is_ painful, but there have been never any promises between you two. She moved on, so should you. I doubt there will be lack of ladies in _your_ life."

"Yes, but…" But what? None of them will be Lily? Maybe this is exactly what I need. She moved on, so I'll do the same. Yes, this is exactly what I am going to do.

"Thank you, Saul. I will heed your advice. You are a great friend."

"No problem. By the way, you look like Hell."

And then he just leaves in his usual silent gait, the smack! I am revoking all his friend privileges!

…

Moving on… is easier said than done. For a week I've been catching up with things at the office, going over records done by my temporary replacement (Wolfe is obviously disgruntled, discontented, disgusted and overall dissatisfied with the guy, who managed to survive through five months of Wolfe's personal way of life i.e. torture of everyone around him). He (Andrew or Arthur?) deserves a Medal of Honor and not Wolfe's grumbling.

I try to return to the routine, I almost succeed, but something nags at the back of my head, my chest as well. Yes, our lives will go their separate ways, but it doesn't mean, we can't part on good terms. The way I bolted from Lily's apartment that day is inexcusable, so I decide to mend bridges, but without crossing them, because I am not going to lie to myself, believing I can look at Lily's growing belly and keep completely calm. I most definitely cannot. Calling is also out of the question since there is no guarantee, she will not drop the receiver the moment she hears my voice. So I sit down to compose a letter. Thankfully Wolfe is in the plant rooms, so I have no distractions apart from my own doubts. After five different versions, I come up with the following:

 _Dear Lily!_

 _I am writing to you to apologize for my appalling behavior the last time we talked. I should not have reacted like a total ass to such a happy occasion in your life. I wish you all imaginable happiness and hope that we will remain friends._

 _Only yours, Escamillo._

 _P.S. Please, tell me whom to shake hands with and extend my congratulations to the future father, when I eventually came across him, since he clearly is someone I know._

I receive a swift, but curt reply.

 _Dear Archie,_

 _No, you do not know him and, doubtfully, you'll ever meet him, since we are relocating to the South to his estate._

 _Thank you for belated congratulations._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Lily Rowan_

Her 'sincerely' feels like a slap on the face. Moreover, something is very wrong about the whole situation. Something smells and not like Lily's favorite perfume. She seems rather adamant on me not meeting the guy. Why? Because I'll hit him in the face? Because I won't be able to gracefully step aside, giving way to a better man? Well, she is right, she does know me well after all. Yes, my ego is wounded and I require satisfaction. Maybe then the bullet will be safely removed with no further complication, although, it does seem that it moved from my throat down into my chest.

….

And so I do what I do best – I lunch an investigation, a 'father hunt' if you please. Firstly, I try to recall the presence of a spark of diamond of an engagement ring during my last conversation with Lily. To my excuse, my eyes were focused on a different body part, so even if there was one, I didn't notice.

My second step is to announce to Wolfe that I am taking a week or two of personal leave to deal with the trauma I received during my out of town trip. One doesn't have to be an able reader of Nero Wolfe's face expressions (who I and only I certainly am) to understand that he is far from enthusiastic about it. It looks like he bit into a piece of meat with the wrong seasoning. But since I am on a quest, I state my intentions firmly and clearly and leave, slamming the door behind me.

Following my investigative strategy, I step into the public library and look through all New York newspapers for the last five months, excluding ones were have subscription to, because if Lily didn't want me to stumble on the news of her upcoming nuptials and the name of her beau, she wouldn't place the announcement where I can see it. She is a smart girl like that. The result of six hours of paper turning – zero. No engagement of wedding announcements with one party being Lily Rowan. But it wasn't a complete waste of time since I found a list of engagements I should congratulate on post factum. I look through society pages too, just in case, but with same result.

The next day I go through the papers we subscribe to (I've never given anyone a reason to accuse me of not being thorough while on a case), but not at home, because I am dealing with a personal matter on my own time. _And_ I don't want Wolfe to know what I am actually doing. And _still_ nothing.

After the scene of the crime is inspected for possible evidence (of which I found none), it is hours of footwork to collect witness statements. And so I visit all Lily's usual haunts to talk (i.e. to question very discreetly) people of her, and by extension mine (to a point), social circle if I happen upon them. It takes me another week to go through all the clubs, art galleries, poetry readings and theaters. To summarize – I do better than with the newspapers, but not by far. According to 'witnesses' four months ago Lily basically disappeared from the social scene. But even before that, there wasn't any man she was particularly attached to.

The only solid lead I get is that since everyone, who called on Lily were told she was out of town and the same was said about my whereabouts, our friends and acquaintances thought we had finally eloped. A rather interesting notion, but…

After analyzing the presented evidence, I come to two conclusions – either Lily met some Texas oil magnate, who was visiting New York at that time and fell so head over heels with him, she lavished her time solely on him or the man wasn't typical representative of Lily's circle. Only one man falls under this category and I hope against hope, he is not the one I am searching for. Not because I dislike him, quite the opposite, he is a very good all around bloke, who gave me permission to address him by his first name, Bernard, the day we met. For those on the beat, he is known as Lieutenant Cramer and I couldn't help but dab him in my mind as Cramer Jr., because he is indeed Inspector Cramer's son, who very successfully followed in his father footsteps.

Our paths crossed for the first time only two years ago on Lily's birthday party. We couldn't meet professionally since Bernie is in Organized Crime and obviously Cramer Sr. will never bring his own son to Wolfe just to make an acquaintance. Although, Cramer did sung praises to his offspring after the lad returned from Australia as a war hero. Even Wolfe's usual condescending attitude couldn't dampen pride of a father. The spectacle of the arrest was surreally different that time. Cramer let Wolfe do whatever he wanted and even kept smiling the whole time.

So Bernie is some five years younger than me, must've inherited his looks from his mother's side, since he is rather good looking. He is a solid cop: dependable, decisive, daring, dedicated and all around decent guy. How is it possible for him not to be snatched already by some damsel in distress, I do not know. Okay, this is just too much alliteration. However, I do remember Lily and him becoming rather chummy some three months before my departure. They have always been close, knowing each other since infancy, but their friendship must've grown into something more as of late.

What should I do next then? Confront Bernie? Or better tail him and thus confirm the nature of their relationship? A solid strategy for the next stage of my investigation. A full-proof plan.

That falls apart on its seems after five days of my spying on Bernie Cramer, following his every move, none of which landed him in Lily's vicinity by phone, mail, telegram or in person. I checked everything.

My personal leave is almost up and I haven't roused a single bird in my father hunt. It is time to call reinforcements a.k.a. call Saul.

"Evening, Saul, are you busy at the moment?"

"No, and you? Have you had any success in overcoming your trauma?"

"None whatsoever, but I believe, you can help."

"Anything for a friend."

"There is a fountain of information I need for my treatment, but I can't tap into it. I need you to do it for me."

"And who possesses this miraculous water?"

"Mimi, Lily's maid."

"Sorry, Archie, you have to ask someone else."

"Why?! If it is a matter of money-"

"Of course not. She knows me."

"Lily's _maid_ knows _you_? How in the world?"

"She sings in a church choir."

"And?"

"I like choir music."

"So you saw her in a church. I doubt, she remembers you, not everybody has memory as good as yours."

"Well, there was a lot more than just passing each other in a church."

"Saul… I am speechless. You fooled around with _Lily's maid_?! And Lily hasn't got your head for breaking poor Mimi's heart? Hasn't gotten _my_ head?"

"We met only on several occasions. Socially. Neither hearts were involved, but she knows who I am and whom I am occasionally work for. So alas, I cannot approach her. In any capacity."

My leads are turning to dust one after another with no suspects in sight. But one path still remains. The path that brings me to the red chair in Wolfe's office.

"What buffoonery is this now, Archie?!"

"I sat in this chair only once. Now I am doing it again, because I did everything I could according to my knowledge and experience, but with no result. You do not take cases of such nature, but I hope you'll make an exception just this once. For me."

I watch as Wolfe makes himself comfortable in his specially designed chair. Pours himself a glass of beer. He seems to be in no hurry. The fact that I am almost begging for the rabbit only he manages to pull out of not even a hat, but from thin air, does not bother him, not that anything does.

"And what case is that?"

"I want, no, I need to know who the father of Lily's baby is."

"Preposterous! What for?"

"If you are afraid that I will commit a crime or an act of violence-"

"You will not?"

"Of course not! I am a grown man!"

"You have not been acting like one lately. You have grey hair for crying out loud and you act like a child, who lost his toy, so you hit everyone in the sandbox instead of looking for the toy itself! An utter disgrace."

I've seen dozens of times as the perspective clients stormed out of the office because of Wolfe's attitude and I would do the same if I wasn't used to being an errand boy or a whipping boy or someone who is supposed to follow a command "fetch" on a regular basis. So I remain sited, clenching my teeth not to say something that will surely make Wolfe refuse my plight. "You never ask for client's motivation."

"No, but you are a special client."

"Thank you for such consideration." I drill my gaze into his, not wavering under Wolfe's pressure. I am too desperate to back out at this stage. No child has such resolution.

"Provide I take on your case, which is most uncertain, what do you want me to do? Hire an army of investigators, who will not only map out Miss Rowan's movements during the designated period of time, but report on what she ate and what she wore, but you've already done that. The only logical approach is to ask her directly, but if I do present a point blank question over the telephone or even in person, there is no guarantee that Miss Rowan will not lie. Which brings me back to your inquiry. To what question do you actually seek answer to?"

I leave the office without answering the question about the answer to my question which indeed happens to be the wrong one. When looking for a suspect in an investigation, one tries to answer such questions as who, why, when. I approached my father hunt in the same fashion, but what I truly wanted to know the second I discovered Lily's condition was not when or why or even by whom, my sole wish was and is to comprehend and come to terms with the reason for _me not_ being the main suspect. But tomorrow I will find out. Tomorrow I will prove right to be called Escamillo and take the bull by its horns. But only after an eight hour sleep.

…..

My stampede to Lily's place is delayed, firstly by me sleeping in (my body must've been truly exhausted by the two week running around the city) and because Fritz decides to play a mother hen, who clucks around her chick, who is finally eating properly. Thus I get to Lily's apartment building only around noon.

The watchman greets me with the smile of an old friend (because we somewhat are) and informs me that Lily banned me from the visitors' list and he has to show me the door if he sees me. We agree on the fact that he most definitely hasn't, though he does see Anderson on my twenty (we are old friends, so it's quite enough; and information about Mimi being out and Lily in comes for free.)

I get up to the apartment and open the door with my own key for the first time since it has been given to me in I don't remember how many years. I come in resolute to find Lily and deliver my ultimatum, but stop in my tracks reaching the living room. I do find Lily, but it is hard to take bull by its horns when it is sleeping and cutely sniffles her nose, looking like a curled cat.

I remove some of the pillows from the sofa to make room for myself. Lily doesn't even stir. It is said that pregnant women have a special glow about them and she does look different – pale and tired, much larger in certain places, but not less beautiful by any means. My hand hovers over the hill under the blanket. I have no right to touch it, even if I surprise myself by harboring an unusual desire to do so. Instead I push a lock of hair behind her ear, uncovering the face I can describe to any portraitist in a way that the final result will be a perfect depiction with no need for Lily to pose even for a second.

The mistress of the penthouse finally rises from her slumber, stretches (a cat indeed) and focuses her baby blues on her domain's intruder a.k.a. me.

"Archie? What are you?.."

"Who is the father, Lily?" I heed Wolfe's advice and ask a direct question and not because I hope she will blurt it out because of her groggy state, well, not entirely.

"Why do you care?"

To answer a question with a question – a classical deflection technique, the girl sure has picked some tricks to resist interrogation. "You think, I don't?"

"Why should you? It isn't important anyway."

"How can it be not important? What are you hiding? Is this baby the result of an… assault? A night of carelessness? Why do you keep lying to me?!" I truly don't want to raise my voice, but I can't help it. The usual tag of war makes a considerable part of our relationship and makes it so exiting, but sometimes, just like now, one of us, usually Lily, becomes a mule and won't give way no matter what. And Lily demonstrates this perfectly by tossing away the blanket and stomping into her bedroom. At least, she tries to, she mostly wobbles. And as always, such attitude doesn't deter me in the slightest, so I am hot on her tail. Consideration of personal space is long forgotten between us.

"I am not leaving until you answer me, Lily. And not more lies."

"How can't you see that I never lie to you but _for_ you?"

No matter how twisted it sounds, it's true, because our relationship did start with a lie, a lie that allowed solving the murder we were working on. So what does this mean now?

"I didn't ask you to lie for me, I ask you for _the truth_!"

"It's _yours_ , you idiot!"

Some wise man said: "Truth hurts." It can also hit you like a ton of bricks, make your knees buckle and flop down onto the bed rather ungracefully. But despite my brain being partly short-circuited, I do not lie to myself denying my wish to hear exactly those words since my return two weeks ago. Wolfe claims, I know everything about how women think and why they act the way they do. I always disclaim this statement, but there is one woman, I do know inside out and this is Lily Rowan. And knowing her, I will not exclude the possibility of her lying to me on purpose to get revenge in a way of me running around, searching for someone, who didn't exist in the first place. I wouldn't put such a scheme behind Lily, who loves high stakes games, but this is not the woman, who is crying her eyes out and wrapping herself in a duvet as if it is her last line of defense, like she has no one else to care about her and this has never been the case.

"Why did you lie about the term, Lily? You thought, I would just back off? Forget you ever existed? Were you really going to move away and give birth to my child without me knowing?"

"I thought, you _died_ , Archie!"

"How in the world could you get that idea?"

"That night, almost six months ago… There was no anniversary, neither of us had birthdays, so when you rented the cabin for the weekend… The candle light dinner, the bed covered with white and red rose petals… We made love the whole night and half of the following day…"

"We ran out of condoms, but you said it was okay-" Though I doubt, we would have stopped either way, it was a magical night indeed.

"I miscalculated, but I couldn't think straight that night, because I thought, you would finally… propose despite our initial agreement to just enjoy our time together without ever getting serious. And then you said you were leaving town for a couple of weeks for a case… I knew it wasn't a new beginning, it was the end. You were saying farewell and I had no choice but to smile and send you on your way. Just like I always do.

"Four weeks later I found out I was pregnant. I called Mister Wolfe's office to… I don't even know… But I needed you, needed to hear your voice, needed to tell me what to do…"

"But I wasn't there."

"No, Archie, you weren't. When I inquired from Mister Wolfe, when you are expected back, he told me, he didn't have such information since you were recruited into country service. I knew right then that the feds had finally gotten to you."

"Only me and Wolfe knew. Nobody else, how-"

"Who else could it be? What other organization has deep enough pockets to convince Mister Wolfe to loan you to them? You are the best at what you do, Archie, so it was only a matter of time when someone other than Mister Wolfe noticed it. And you will agree because of your boundless sense of duty, agree even if it kills you. You are a great detective, Archie, it is in your very essence, your wish to right all the wrongs, to help everyone, who comes your way and I adore you because of it."

"I am sensing a rather substantial 'but'."

"I can't go through this nightmare again, Archie. The time you went after Zeck and could be killed at any moment… When you volunteered to go to war, _to the front lines,_ Archie. I was ready to use my connections to block your deployment overseas. Believe me, I could, but I knew you would never forgive me for that, the man in you never would. I thanked all deities above, when you remained in Counter Intelligence. And then you _were_ shot. The wound wasn't serious, but I was mad with worry for it happening _again_ at any given moment because of a case or as revenge against Mister Wolfe or in any other heroic situation you constantly find yourself in.

Remember when you drank champagne from my shoe? We sat on the same couch, we were at earlier. Before that I only had a feeling I hesitated to acknowledge, but after that I was completely certain that there was no other man I would like to share my life with. I've gotten marriage proposals (six in total) before and after that night and I rejected all those good, respectable men, who felt strongly about me, not because I never wanted to marry (as I told them), but because neither of them could hold a candle to you.

Still, no matter what I feel, your life is not your own to share. Being a private detective, Nero Wolfe's assistant, is your true calling and I love you too much to deprive you of it. But I am also too selfish to not wish to have you all to myself. When I found out about the baby and your job with the FBI, I had to make a decision, so I made a selfish one to keep the child, because at least this way, I will always have a part of you. And yes, I was planning to leave town. I happen to be in New York right now only because the place I've rented needs emergency repairs. I hoped that even if you came back, you wouldn't know anything. So you won't need to choose, to make the choice you'll hate yourself all your life for. We don't see much of each other anyway, so I thought you wouldn't notice my long absences-"

"Do you still have a typewriter in your office?"

I watch as Lily blinks in confusion, letting the last tears trail down her rosy cheeks. She nods, shock and fear are swimming in her oceans for eyes, she is so out of her element, we both are, that I won't be surprised if she grabs onto my jacket so I won't poof into thin air just like I appeared. I jerk my head to the side to indicate that she can follow. She does, but only when I've already put the paper and the carbons into the typewriter. Women do take considerable time to freshen up.

I type up the document's title. I've typed a number of such letters over the years, but never planned to follow through with any of them, but this one is going to be the real deal. I hesitate on the first sentence, but then the words flow without pause or indecision on my part.

The end result is the following:

Letter of Resignation

I, Archie Goodwin, would like to resign from my post of Nero Wolfe's assistant due to change in personal circumstances. I will be available for hire as an independent investigator with an hour rate to be determined, according to my skills and experience.

I undertake to find a replacement for my position and free my workdesk as well as my accomodations by the time my child is born in three months.

Signed: Archie Goodwin. Dated today.

I show the letter to Lily, who carefully reads it (need to personally deal with her finances does give some useful habits).

"You can't do this, Archie."

"Why not? This is what I want. This is _my_ choice."

"But… but-"

"When I left here last time, I came to my room and got drunk, pissed drunk, I've never allowed myself to act like this. Because I'd never felt like that either. I felt angry, hurt and betrayed. And insanely jealous of a man, who took you away from me. Yes, I live and work at the brownstone with Wolfe and it is a home, and I play cards with the guys or take out dancing some pretty girls that I happen to meet, but only with _you_ I feel like truly coming home. Only in your arms I feel that you'll never let me go. My legs, arms, eyes and ears can belong to Wolfe, but my heart has always been yours. If you left town without notice, I would raise the whole country to find you because I am only half a man without you, Lily. With Wolfe I can be a good detective, but you make me a good human being. If you want to share your life with me, for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer and all that… I want it too. I've wanted it for awhile now, despite my work circumstances. But-"

"But we agreed that we would never become serious and you said, no, you _vowed_ to never marry a woman richer than you."

"One's views can change, if one's heart cannot."

"So you are serious? And this is not only because of the baby? About obligations and duty?"

"No, it is about you, me and our family. _Our_ life. I never explicitly wanted to be a father, but these two weeks, no, these six months changed my perception of life."

"You do understand that Mister Wolfe will never allow you to leave. He is a part of you as you are a part of him. I remember how lost you were, when he went into hiding."

"But I got onto my own two feet and I can do it again."

"But can _he_?"

"You worry about big old Wolfy? How sweet of you."

"I met him only a handful of times, but it is clear he has great respect for you."

"You noticed it before or after you necked with him?"

The siren dares to blush. "It was one time, because _you_ asked me to."

"I'm just fooling around, I wasn't jealous. _That_ time. It is almost four o'clock. I think, I drop the bomb at six. It seems we have time to talk about trivial things. So big or small wedding?"

"You call _this_ trivial?"

"I can marry you tomorrow, I don't care about anything else. I do want for my mother to be present though."

"Medium-sized wedding in six months, only friends and relatives for guests."

"Agreed. See, how easy we find compromise. Married life will be a breeze."

"You are just so cocky!"

"And you love me for it."

"That I do."

…..

We do not manage to discuss all aspects of our upcoming happily ever after, because Lily decided to accompany me to the life changing meeting i.e. bomb dropping. For that she has to be properly dressed and with her current complexion, it is not an easy task. But as always, Lily prevails and we arrive to the West 35th Street right on time for me to stash Lily in the front room with the small window open for her to hear the conversation in the office.

I step into the office, the ticking envelope at hand, and halt behind the red chair. Wolfe is already sited, pouring his daily glass of beer… I was ready to just pack up and go, but Lily's words do strike a cord – leaving Nero Wolfe will not be as easy as I thought, because I do care about the big guy a great deal and not as a genius detective with his quirks, but as a person, who took me in and taught me everything I know, who made me, who I am today both professionally and personally. Yes, it is a difficult step, but a step that must be taken.

"Mister Wolfe…"

"What is it? And do sit down, Archie, you know, I can't talk to people when they are not at my eyes level."

I sit down into the red chair (my choice owns me a raised eyebrow that equals an unspoken question: 'Are you going to repeat the nonsense from the last time you sat there?') and give him the envelope. Yes, I am not only going to repeat it, but act as even more of a buffoon in Wolfe's eyes. Not that I am going to announce it.

"What is this about?"

"My resignation."

"I presume that the FBI people made you a better offer or this is your usual dramatic way to ask for a pay raise?"

"No, it means exactly what is written there."

Wolfe slowly opens the envelope and reads the enclosed document. Then reads it again. I hope that he doesn't notice, I do not look my usual confident self.

"And I am supposed to believe this?"

"Yes."

"I understand that you are fond of the girl, but go this far-"

"I advise you to check the dictionary because fondness is a shallow feeling compared to what I feel for Lily. I trust her with my life, I trust her with _your_ life which is much more important that yours truly's. She stood by me all these years no matter what philandering I did, no matter how many weekend plans were ruined because you summoned me not only for a case, but for any insignificant reason. You have Fritz, your beer and hundreds of orchids to make you happy, I need only one Lily.

"You once said that I would never marry, never allow a woman to put her foot onto my throat, but if it is Lily's foot, she can push however much she likes, because I will still worship the ground these feet walk on."

"If this is supposed to be a poetic romantic declaration then you are rubbish at it."

"I wish I could learn from the master the same way I absorb your wisdom, but you do not partake in such frivolities."

If looks could kill…

"Frivolities indeed. It is safe to assume that Miss Rowan is in the front room? Bring her here!"

"Please, do not be your usual obnoxious self, she _is_ in delicate condition."

"Delicate, ha! If there was anything delicate about that woman, you wouldn't even _step_ near her!"

"Too true."

I open the doors to the front room and close them behind me. I need to take a breath before the next round. And I have no doubt there will be another assault. Wolfe sounded _and_ looked angry, which was expected and I am used to such lashes, but to subject Lily to such treatment… Treatment she in no way deserves. But I worry for naught, she is lounging on the sofa, looking quite at home.

"Maybe by Mister Wolfe's standards your speech was mediocre, but I found it very romantic. Thank you."

"It was true."

"From the heart."

"Ye-" And she just kisses me then and there with Wolfe in the next room! Not that I particularly mind… It has been quite a while… But "We need to go."

Lily pouts cutely, but turns around and marches into the office without waiting for me to open the door. No one could deny Lily Rowan a grand entrance. The available action for me is to follow in her footsteps and take the yellow chair that is closest to the red one.

"Miss Rowan, Mister Goodwin here informs me, quite formally, that you are planning to take my aide away from me."

"Mister Wolfe, if you are insinuating that I am guilting Archie into marriage by the oldest trick in the book, then you are mistaken."

BOOM! There you have it. Firstly, by stating that Nero Wolfe is wrong, which in this house is equal to blasphemy, _and_ making him go on the defensive. Have I mentioned how much I love this woman?

"The parentage is indisputable?"

"Of course."

"How can you be sure?"

Steeping so low that he is going for direct insult about Lily's free lifestyle. Things are going to get ugly.

"Because I haven't got any lovers beside Archie for four years now. Others were not as satisfactory."

Not even Wolfe's glare can stop the smirk, appearing on my face, and not because my ego is so publicly stroked, but because Lily's choice of words. And Wolfe knows it, he most certainly does. Not that it makes him go forward in a way that is gentler than a tank.

"To your personal understanding, Mister Goodwin _must_ leave my employ to fulfill his responsibilities as a parent?"

"I doubt, you will consent to me moving here, but I am not against it. You have a wonderful home and I have been always fascinated with detective work. It isn't a good environment for a child, of course, but I promise to manage him during your business hours. Oh, and I'll need living quarters for my staff: a maid and a nanny."

"Have you lost your mind?!"

Under normal circumstances, the client, who is shouted at with this volume either covers in fear and pays up whatever he is due or storm out of the office never to be seen again. Lily does neither.

"To my understanding, there are two solutions to this situation – either Archie leaves with me or I start living here. I understand your concern and anger since he is irreplaceable to both of us, but someone's got to give. Yes, I gave him up several months ago, because I thought, it would be best for him. And you. And even if you most definitely like for me just to disappear and not disturb the perfect order of your life, we _both_ want this child to have a proper family, but we also both want to have your blessing. Particularly, since we met because of you."

"Do not push all the responsibility on me, Miss Rowan. Credit for your meeting deserves a broken car, the unreliable contraptions that they are. Although people can be more reliable and durable, very few individuals are truly irreplaceable."

I don't know if I am to laugh or to cry. Being placed only a level higher than a motor car (although I've been treated as a recording machine on legs for quite some time and still am by some representatives of law enforcement) does hurt, but in wanting to disprove everything Lily says, Wolfe has himself showed me a way out.

"I am glad, you share our point of you, Mister Wolfe."

"And that is? With all your babbling, I lost your train of thought."

"That you will let Archie go if the replacement is found. There is still three months, if it takes longer, I will cover the expenses."

"Miss Rowan, are you aware of what sum we are talking about?"

"Surely not more than three mil the feds paid as compensation for my absence in the office."

Another death glare from Wolfe, that sum surely falls under undisclosable information.

"Wow, Archie, I am impressed, but I _can_ match that amount after the baby is born. I am sure it will cover your needs during another six months while your business is disrupted."

"Are you under impression that you can just pay me enough money to _buy_ Mister Goodwin?"

" _Can_ I?"

I watch their battle of wills, betting with myself on who will give up first. Of course, I want Lily to come out the winner, but Wolfe is no easy opponent and she is already on her last breath. Thus I perform my usual roll of the mediator.

"Should I inform Fritz there will be another person for dinner?"

"Oh, it has been so long! Archie does bring me to Rusterman's at times, but there is no doubt that the best cuisine can be eaten only here."

Flattery, even uncovered, does get Lily a lot of points with steaming but hungry Wolfe. Fritz is buzzed in and informed about the unplanned guest. We move to the dining room in wait for the food to be served. As per years long rule, there are no talking about business at the dinner table and Lily gives Wolfe a reprieve by choosing to talk about flower exhibition she visited last month, getting an additional number of points. While they discuss the finest points of demonstrating the flowers in the most flattering way, I think about the words that have been exchanged in the office. My plan did not go beyond presenting the letter, but if I had another trump card up my sleeve, it was not Lily speaking on my behalf. Her readiness to part with several million just to ensure Wolfe's financial stability was completely unexpected. But it is her fierceness in anything she does be it dancing, partying, protecting or encouraging a friend or organizing a charity event, that attracted me to her and made me want to never let her go even if I've never actually had her. Yes, she can be needy and overbearing at times, but watching her converse with Wolfe on equal footing… Two weeks ago I asked myself 'why not me' and now, looking at this vibrant woman, whose admirers span from the highest echelons of society to world famous artists, I ask 'why _me_ '? She could've literary chosen _anyone_ and decided to spend her life with a country bumpkin like me, a mere personal assistant.

Neither of us is affectionate, particularly in public, but I am suddenly overcome with an overwhelming desire to touch Lily, to express my gratitude or maybe just to feel that she is real, that this is really happening. And I do just that, right at Wolfe's dinner table; I reach out, cover Lily's hand with mine (thankfully, she is not using it at the moment) and squeeze. She turns to face me, half through her sentence, and smiles. It is one of her rare smiles that makes her the center of any room, of any crowd. I smile in return. Must be looking like an outright fool, but I don't care, because, I think, this is what happiness feels like.

After dinner we move to the office for coffee. I expect for the business conversation to be postponed till we finish, but Wolfe goes right for it (his house, his rules, his right to break them).

"I find favorable the terms that you both presented. Archie will leave my employ in three months and Miss Rowan will pay three million if he does not find a replacement which will give him another six months to complete the task."

While I sit with my cup half way to my mouth, not believing that it's done (it usually takes weeks to persuade Wolfe to do something _I_ want, particularly if it concerns my private affairs), Lily stands up, gracefully puts the cup onto the small table beside the red chair and nears Wolfe's desk. In an almost unprecedented fit, Wolfe stands up too.

"Thank you, Mister Wolfe. I do have two more favors to ask of you, though. Firstly, since we are more or less a family, I really would appreciate you calling me Lily. And the second favor… You will be, of course, invited to the wedding, and Archie wants his mother to be there, which is obvious… We can't leave such wonderful woman unaccompanied in a foreign environment… Good bye, Mister Wolfe, have a pleasant evening." Lily must be either high on the success of our visit or just being Lily, who relishes in if not breaking then bending the rules, because she thrusts her arm forward for a handshake. _And_ (miracles do not seize) Wolfe obliges, however briefly, but still. "Archie will walk me out."

I follow my lady's command. "I told you, he liked you."

"Don't be ridiculous, Archie."

"Oh he most certainly does. He stood up."

"And your mother? Does he like her too?"

My brain short-circuits for a moment or two or three, but I hide it well while assisting Lily with her coat.

"They met only a couple of times when she visited the city. He _was_ polite, he can force himself out of necessity, as you well know."

"So he can force himself again, because I was serious back there. Frankly, I was thinking of Mister Wolfe to give you away at the wedding, but that, of course, is a lost cause."

"I have to agree, the symbolism is on point."

"But seriously, Archie, will you manage in time? I mean, Mister Wolfe wasn't looking for an assistant back then, you just came along and you two just clicked. It was Fate."

"You are being melodramatic." Fate, really? "But I do already have a promising candidate in mind."

"Oh? Already?"

"I found out a lot about Bernie's situation since I've been following him for the last week-"

"Why in the world were you doing that?! Oh, you thought- How could _he_ be the father?"

"You've been spending a lot of time with him lately…"

"We are only friends, Archie. And he really needed a good friend this year as you must know now. So Bernie, ha? I really want to be a fly on the wall for _that_ conversation."

"I'll tell you all about it."

"You better. Now kiss me."

"Right here? In the hall?"

"It has been _five months,_ Archie. But if you are more comfortable on the porch…"

"Since you are twisting my arm… And you have to promise not to tell anybody anything yet."

"Since you are making me promise an almost impossible fit, this kiss must be something out of this world."

Well, I try my best and if I still know how to discern Lily's expressions right, I succeed.

….

I postpone the continuation of the talk about the next Nero Wolfe's assistant to the next day, to the time after the plant rooms' morning session to be precise. I go to check with Fritz about a minor detail about lunch just before eleven and upon my return find Wolfe already in his chair, sorting the mail. I have a solid plan on how to proceed, but find myself stupidly standing in the middle of the office unsure as to where to sit.

"It is still your desk." Of course, Wolfe notices.

"Yes, but I prefer to look my interlocutor in the eyes," I state in a pitiful attempt to save face and take the red chair.

"It is safe to assume, you are not going to suggest a case from a new client."

"No."

I watch as Wolfe releases a long breath full of suffering, but also… defeat? and puts the mail away under one of his numerous paperweights.

"Proceed."

"You were right yesterday. The feds did want to make me an offer, no doubt a very lucrative one. I rejected it on the spot, but the circumstances have changed since then."

"Flattery will not get you good recommendations."

"I do not want them, sir. And no, I am not going to accept their offer if they do not make amendments I require."

"You consider yourself so valuable as to dictate your conditions of employment?"

"I am aware that they hired me only because they needed a local from Ohio whom nobody could recognize. And because the whole operation was off the books. My mishaps were only my responsibility and all the laurels were theirs. I was aware of that, but I agreed, because I could not allow for a drug ring to flourish in my home state.

"As you have noticed, I have grey hair now, which I didn't before. I saw and did things there I never want to do again. I shot, well, killed five men. Self-defense in the eyes of the law (more or less), but those deaths will be with me till my own dying day. Call me weak-hearted, but I will never agree to another undercover job.

"My life is not only my own anymore, actually, hasn't been for some time as it turned out. I've been telling Lily stories about our cases, about some of our close calls and we always turned it into a good laugh, but… it came out that she worries… a lot… and I don't want her to."

"All people worry about well-being of those they care about."

Is this an admission that he worried about me too?

"What I am leading to is that if the compromise is not reached with the FBI, I would like to open my own investigation agency as I did once before. I hope, the city is large enough for both of us. And I am not planning on perching Fred and Saul, I am sure, they will always have _you_ as their first priority."

"I will not send clients your way, just because I do not want to dial with them."

"I am not asking you to, sir."

"What are you asking for then? A blessing, as Miss Rowan put it?"

"I suppose so. There is no use in denying my respect for and indebtedness to you. I am leaving for selfish reasons, but I will not abandon my desk with just a note and without proper arrangements and goodbyes."

Wolve's eyebrows form a deep frown. My taunt in his address in reference to his note before going into hiding from Zeck is not left unnoticed. Not that he will apologize for that any time soon.

"You managed then, you will manage now."

This is it then. This statement is the only comment I get for my wish to part amicably. I understand, he is angry, but tossing me out like a dog, who is not needed anymore… At least, he is looking at _me_ and not into another book. Which he will be doing if I do not change the topic and fast.

"I have a candidate for my soon former desk."

"Already?"

"I got lucky."

"And who could that be?"

"He is a cop. A very good one. From Organized Crime. His wife divorced him three years ago and on top of that he was shot twice on a case a bit later. Even after rehabilitation, he will not be able to pass the physical requirements, so his career will end with a desk duty and he was planning to transfer to Homicide in the near future.

"He does not have memory abilities like Saul or I, but he completed multiple undercover operations, which mean work under extreme pressure in different environments. I've known him only for a couple years, so I didn't see him in action much, but his interrogation skills are top notch. I once witnessed how he pretended to be a dandy interested in making a quick buck; he made an old con man trust him (and they are as paranoid as they come) enough to make him a partner in his scam and reveal all his machinations and victims. In fifty three minutes. I was present by chance at the same café, just watched from the sidelines. It was a truly magnificent job."

"If he is as good as manipulator as you say, why does he wish to deal with murder investigations?"

"I can only assume that he wants to have less lies in his life, to search for the truth. And because he wants to follow _and_ surpass his father, who is retiring in… seven months."

"Do we know him?"

"Yes, we know him very well. I am talking about Lieutenant Bernard Cramer, Inspector Cramer's son."

Frankly, I thought, Wolfe would just leave the office after I say the name out loud, or he would shout at me, accuse me of losing my last brain cells, etc. But, as genii go, he surprised me yet again.

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'? You haven't even met the guy. He is actually a big admirer of yours."

"No."

"Bernard is a lot like his father, by the way."

"And the reason it is his strong suit?.."

"He is stubborn, loyal, incorruptible and does everything to get to the truth. He doesn't smoke or chew cigars though."

"The answer is still 'no'."

"Name _one_ reason and it can't be connected to Cramer Senior since he is retiring anyway. On that note, we should send him a geranium or a gift busket." Silence is my answer. He is being contradictory just for the sake of it. As always. "So can I invite him to our card game, so the 'teers could size him up?"

"A card game? Whatever for?"

"It was the same for me, remember? Of course, there will be other practical tests, a perspective client called just twenty minutes ago. Not a murder, but with our luck you never know. Should I… issue an invitation to Bernard?"

Another sigh of defeat. "Do however you please, you always do."

"It's in my job description."

…

"Saul and Fred were here after lunch to report on your card game yesterday. They asked me to extend their congratulations since you were not here in person."

"I informed you yesterday about my plans with Lily for this afternoon. You would've asked them to come later if you had wanted for me _to be_ present, sir. But since you brought it up, you plan to divulge some details of your secret meeting?"

"They both agreed that Mister Cramer performed highly satisfactorily in extracting the information about the defense witness in Prescott's case that was kept out of the press. Your ruse to tell Mister Cramer that it was about a bet between you and Fred was a good idea. What would have happened if Mister Cohen had not been aware of this witness?"

"Lon knows _everything,_ especially if it is kept out of the press. And my personal comment on Bernie's masterful interrogation is that Lon didn't even notice anything. We all continued talking and playing as if nothing extraordinary happened. Not that a state secret was revealed… Maybe it wasn't enough of a hook or Lon just trusts us not to leak anything to his competitors. I should think of another way-"

"Archie! Stop it!"

"But-"

"Both Saul and Fred made a number of personal remarks that deem more tests unnecessary. I am sure, you respect their judgment?"

"I wouldn't be here otherwise. If their current opinion satisfies you… Is it time to show Cramer Junior our true intentions?"

Wolfe just nods and engrosses himself in a book, not the one from yesterday. I wasn't expecting any excitement on the prospect of finally seeing Cramer's son in person, but some reaction should be present. Hopefully, his scary face won't scare Bernie off, because I have no other candidates at hand.

I call my future replacement (hopefully) to ask if he is interested in a career change by becoming Nero Wolfe's assistant. A long pause echoes from the receiver in return to my proposition. And then a curt reply that he needs to think about it. And I respect that. It is much preferable to a squeal of happiness and instant acceptance. After asking Bernie to inform me about his decision in the next three days, I call Saul rather curious about the 'personal remarks'. By some miracle Saul is not sleuthing around town, but spending the evening at home.

"So what did you tell Wolfe?"

"What do you mean?"

"There is not particular hurry, I can go through all PIs in New York, if I have to. What made you two so set on Cramer Junior? Even _I_ met him only a handful of times before I tailed him almost 24/7 for a week."

"And yet he is your first choice."

"I have my reasons. What are yours? Of course, Wolfe has the final say on the matter, but you will at least share your point of you."

"It is funny, how you don't realize it yourself, Archie."

"Stop talking in riddles, Saul. You know how much is on the line here!"

"Indeed. Well, Fred and I thoroughly discussed Bernard Cramer after the game. I called up Lon too for his personal and professional impression. And, yes, he did curse me to Hell and back after realizing what exclusive piece of information he blurted out so carelessly."

"Dawn, Saul. Get to the _point._ "

"You two are almost identical."

"How could we possibly be-"

"Yes, he has dark wavy hair, a bit higher and bulkier, doubtfully a good dancer, but your personalities are almost the same. It is no shock you considered him to be prime suspect in fathering Miss Rowan's child. But I can only assume, she prefers your wild side to his recklessness during work."

"This is complete and utter nonsense. I admit, we have similar character traits, but being identical is going _way_ overboard."

"It is for Mister Wolfe to decide."

Two hours pass after my call to Bernie when our dinner is interrupted by a doorbell. I expected it, but hoped, we would manage to finish eating before the shouting commences. Usually, Fritz answers the door during meals, but I go instead, ignoring Wolfe's glare. He couldn't possibly _not_ know, who is pressing our doorbell into the wall, making the whole house vibrate from its echo.

I slowly near the door, perfectly aware that it will not help our visitor to cool off a little. I consider putting the chain on, but, frankly, why prolong the inevitable? I unlock the door and Cramer, Senior or course, bolts along the hall, not even noticing me almost being smashed into the wall. At least, Bernard didn't inherit the lack of manners from his esteemed father. I hurry after the Inspector in hope to prevent our dining room turning into a crime scene. I catch only the end of Cramer's tirade upon my return.

"My own son! The boy idolizes you for some reason, and I did everything to disillusion him, but to no avail and now you are thinking about pulling him into your farce of detective work! Why do you even need another assistant? Tormenting Goodwin is not enough for you anymore?!"

"First of all, it was Archie, who brought your son's candidature up. Secondly, I am not hiring another assistant. Archie is leaving."

And that is why Wolfe continues to slice his steak and thoroughly chew it without raising his voice or throwing Cramer out. Because he has a perfect scapegoat in my humble person. And so Cramer's red face turns to me, who, in his opinion, is categorized as the enemy of the state for daring to scout he precious son.

"Leaving? Leaving where?"

"To raise _his_ son. I am sure, you can relate, Inspector. If I can still address you in this way?"

I bet, Cramer would spat his cigar out at that moment if he was chewing on one. "You still very much can and will. And my son didn't go through the war, training and recovery from two bullets just to become your errand boy, doing things no honest detective would do!"

Wolfe slowly chews, swallows and only then answers. "I have not met the man, but I hope your son is man enough to make his own decision about his life. Now… Would you like to join us? There is still enough dessert for everyone."

Cramer only turns on his heels and storms out, slamming the door on his way out.

"That went well. I don't know what decision Bernard makes, but I want to warn you, sir, just in case. He has his father's eyes."

"Sit down and finish your dinner, Archie."

How can he still make me feel like a school boy? And why do I still want to do anything to please him?

Turns out, I made the right choice – Bernie Cramer has guts. At least in standing up to his father or disregarding his opinion all together. Whatever the reason, Bernard called for a preliminary meeting for the both sides to discuss job requirements and terms. I don't know about Wolfe, but to me, this is a very smart move. Managing to retain a rather large control where Nero Wolfe is concerned, is as big an achievement as coming a perfect crime.

So here we are waiting for our lunch guest, at least _I_ am, Wolfe is reading, looking completely unfazed. Even Fritz was running around like a headless chicken, while he was preparing for lunch. Fritz was not happy at all about the change of circumstances, deeming it as an early end of the world, wailing: "And what will happen to Mister Wolfe?!" Fritz priorities were always very straight forward. So now he wants to dazzle the new recruit with his culinary skills, so Bernard would stay and thus make everything right in the world.

Bernard comes ten minutes early (another smart move) so there is time for introductions before settling in the dining room. Wolfe actually stands up and shakes Bernard's hand. Would wonders never seize? Again? How many times have we shaken hands over the years? Once? After his return. But before that? Why am I even thinking about it?

"Take a sit, Mister Cramer. Or do you prefer Lieutenant?"

"Bernard is fine, Mister Wolfe. I am not on duty, and, I am sure, using my last name makes you uncomfortable. My father has great respect for you." At this Wolfe snorts in a rather undignified way. "He doesn't show it, but he managed to engrain the same attitude in me."

On this flattering note (because getting Wolfe on your side can be done only with money or stroking his ego, Bernie is going full throttle even if he hasn't yet directly expressed his wish to sit behind my table), we move to the dining room. I watch as Fritz serves Bernard first, since he _is_ a guest, Wolfe lets it slide, at least there is no visible tells. During lunch I remain in an observer's role, watching as Wolfe and Bernard converse on current affairs. I am completely stumped by the realization that I have no idea what Wolfe is thinking. There are absolutely no special signs in his body language or speech. He can't possibly be just talking to Bernard with no hidden motive. On the other hand, _no_ business is discussed at the table. Why did he invite him to lunch then?

The lunch ends. The beer is opened. I am behind my table, Bernard is settled in the red chair, his father occupied on countless occasions, Wolfe towers on his throne.

"I am a man, who does not waste time on trivialities and small talk, so I will ask right away. Why did your wife leave you?"

I blink. Then blink again. Out of all the ways this meeting could go, I thought this to be the last topic Wolfe would want to bring up. So why?! The same question is written all over Bernard's pale face.

"I… don't…"

"You must be wondering about the reasoning behind this question. Please, be assured that it is not my fear of your remarriage and leave that follows it. You are a man in his prime and must be quite sought out by young women. I cannot forbid such interactions. Heaven knows, Archie must have spent in women's company all the time I was not paying him for.

"But the fact remains, I hired him and have been working with him for almost twenty years. He must think, I made him my assistant because of his quick mind and exceptional memory, but there were reasons he is not aware of. Those reasons make me ask you this personal question, the answer to which seems irrelevant at the moment, but, believe me, it is relevant to me."

"I, well, I… I understand. There was nothing dramatic about it, a classical cop story. We met and got married when I was still in Theft. Sandra, my former wife, was not thrilled when I transferred to Organized Crime, but the benefits were better, so… Bit by bit, I started to work long nights, with going undercover I was absent for months with no contact. She actually hold on for longer that I deserved. And three years ago I found signed divorce papers in an empty house upon my return from another operation. That's it."

"Was your former wife aware of your wish to work in Homicide?"

"I suppose so. I never hid my wish, but until father was the highest ranking officer, I could not transfer there."

"Was your shooting result of your recklessness due to your state of depression?"

"The report-"

"I know what the report says, Mister Cramer. I want to hear _your_ side."

"The overall situation was spinning out of control. My cover wasn't blown, but there were suspicions. I was called in a meeting, supposedly a drug sale, where I was to be the courier. The deal went south, it was a set up by the other party. There were seven people, excluding me, and everybody were shooting everybody. The rational decision would have been to escape and regroup, but I was tired from the case and being undercover for so long, so I really wanted to make an arrest and go home. I admit that my mental state at that time was not in prime condition. The bitter taste of the divorce was still lingering, the future seemed bleak since if I wrap up the current case, there will be another one just as bad. I get myself together and promise to myself that after that case I put a request for transfer to Homicide in another city if I can't do it in my own. And when I make a decent plan for the future, I get two bullets, one of which left my right shoulder pretty much useless even if it doesn't affect my shooting much or my daily activities. It did lend me an interview with you, though. Talk about a turnabout."

"Indeed. It is four o'clock, so I need to leave. Archie will talk to you about the practicalities of the job."

And with this statement the mountain of fat rises, moving his head down two millimeters in a good bye nod and proceeds to the elevator. I am not going to dignify this action either verbally or mentally, because at this point _nothing_ about Wolfe can surprise me, particularly his rude attitude towards visitors.

"Any disillusionment so far?" I ask after hearing the racket of the ascending elevator.

"What do you mean?"

"Your father barged in here after you informed him about our offer and confessed to his attempts to nib in the bud your admiration for Mister Wolfe by presenting the true picture he personally witnessed on a monthly if not weekly basis. He also confessed his failure. Has your opinion changed in the last two hours?"

"Not at all."

"I don't know if it is good or bad for you. But let's get down to business, shall we? There are two main differences between being a cop and a private detective. Firstly, PIs don't have a badge, so nobody is obliged to cooperate, secondly, there is usually no distinction between cases PIs take on, be it a missing person or burglary. The list of differences between working for any other detective agency and Mister Wolfe is a mile long, however.

"You must be accessible at all times and available 24/7 if there is a case. You must be his secretary, driver, accountant, bodyguard, errand boy, legs, eyes and ears and when he says 'fetch', you do exactly that even if he could hit you with the same stick you brought. Or not, since only _he_ knows the true worth of the information you report.

"So while you are working for Mister Wolfe, _he_ is your God and your Devil, your law and your king for when you live in _his_ house you do it according to _his_ rules. There is nobody else's interests you are to protect, particularly if you are snatched by the police, prosecutors or District Attorney, which happens _a lot._ "

"Sounds like a pesky job. What are the perks then?"

"Hm… The salary and the food, I suppose, but since it is your prime job to poke Mister Wolfe in accepting clients, it depends on _you_ what will be in your wallet or on your table. Well, you can fool yourself in believing you are the only one worthy of working with the genius detective and in reality he only tolerates you because you are the only one, who tolerates him."

"Is it true that you don't know why he hired you, Archie?"

"I am sure he was just bluffing to manipulate you into answering. I could've staid with Bascom, but I was offered board with higher salary so, obviously, I agreed. A country boy can't be picky to survive in the big city."

"But it can't be that you remained here only because of force of habit. _Something_ must be keeping you here all these years."

"Want to know how to keep from turning crazy in this house, Bernie?"

"Classical deflection, Archie?"

"Hm… I don't know how to answer, but it won't be overreaching to say that we are a family here, by chance or by choice is a personal matter. I suppose, Saul and Fred can explain better since they know Mister Wolfe longer than I do."

"Let me summarize then. You want me to leave the force where I could still do good for the city even if in limited capacity and wholly devote my life to a single person with no guarantees that this person will consider me as valuable."

"Now this is extremely accurate, Bernie. I knew, there was a reason why I picked you."

"And what was that? We are not even close acquaintances."

"Not your last name, if you are wondering. You are a good cop and a good man, spending your life, chained to a desk seems such a waste. And, as it was pointed out to me, we seem to have similar personalities, so it won't be much of a change for the big man. He _hates_ change."

"You think, I'll fit into this family of yours, Archie?"

"Are you willing to try?"

"I will not call in your deflection right now, but yes, you had me the moment you telephoned me with your proposition."

"Are you still on medical leave?"

"For another month."

"Then pack your bags, you are moving into the guest room. Let's see, how you and the genius survive each other."

I walk Barnard out and am half through Lily's number to inform her that things are finally on track, when I put down the receiver and return to the hallway. Yes, the curtain that covers the niche with transparent panel that allows to hear _everything_ that is happening in the office, is not closed properly, moreover, there is a chair. That sly… I don't even have words anymore!

I could get up and give my soon to be former boss a piece of my mind, but I won't. This way I can at least retain _some_ dignity.

…..

"I am not apologizing for what I've said."

Wolfe glides towards his chair. Settles in, feels up the beer glass, completes all his daily rituals and only then turns to face me.

"You do not have to. It is always refreshing to hear the truth about oneself."

"Then, no doubt, you heard, we will be having an additional inhabitant in the house. He will be also my shadow for the next four weeks. We have two minor cases right now, we may catch something big later on, so you can watch your possible new assistant in action. On the other hand, I applied for the license today, we want to register marriage as soon as possible so there will be no legal problems. Lily's layers and financial advisers were pushing for a pre-nup, she vehemently refused. You should have seen her, a Valkyrie no less."

"Miss Rowan has always displayed a high level of intellect and fierce determination."

"I won't mind if you finish your thought, sir."

"Meaning?"

"That you do not understand, how she could possibly want to marry _me._ "

"Phui! I will say no such thing. You complement each other very well. While we are on the subject, I want to give you something, a wedding present if you will."

Wolfe rummages in one of the table drawers and presents me with a small leather box. I open it and its contents almost finds itself on the carpet, because my hands shudder in the view of two traditional golden bands. There is no inscription or decoration, but there is a powerful energy about them.

"Thank you, they don't look like your parents' though. They don't look like they have even ever been worn."

"Because they are not my parents'. They were supposed to be mine."

And now the box does fall down and I must be looking rather idiotic with my jaw hanging open and eyes bulging like a child's, who sees Santa for the first time.

"I understand that it is a difficult concept to grasp, Archie, but I was young too once. We got engaged before the war. I survived it, she did not."

Over fifteen years I have lived in this house and there was _no_ indication… Wolfe's general hate for women… And BAM! I thought I knew him like the back of my hand, prided myself on my ability to read all his quirks, and he gives me a part of his past, the sentimental value of which is such that it prevented him from selling them even after immigration to the US, when he clearly needed funds.

"Thank you again, sir. Lily and I will honor them."

"Better honor each other. As the saying goes."

"I don't remember ever seeing this box in any of your drawers even if I regularly clean them."

"Because I brought it from the bank and kept it in my room… for the last five months."

And here we go again… How many times have I seen Wolfe bring the rabbit out of the hat with me having no knowledge about the real perpetrator even if possessing all the facts? But in this case, it's just surreal.

"How?! Even _I_ didn't know, I am going to have a child until several weeks ago."

"Since today we speak the truth, and since I do not have any obligation to Miss Rowan to keep the content of her call a secret… She did tell you, she called here in search for you?"

"Yes, but-"

"It happened four weeks after you left for Ohio. Fritz answered the phone, replying that you cannot be reached. I thought the conversation was over, but Fritz comes to the office and informs me of Miss Rowan's insistence of speaking to me. Knowing of her obsession with you, I decided to oblige her one time to clear up the situation not to suffer from her endless number of calls.

"I take up the receiver to hear not the familiar shrill calling for her Escamillo, but an even voice, asking for how long you would be absent. I answered that it would be determined by your current employees, since you were serving the country and not working for me at that time. Miss Rowan's voice remained even through her reply, but she was obviously thus unsuccessfully constraining tears, which was an uncharacteristic behavior. I, in turn, inquired about her well-being. She replied, and I quote, "I feel radiant, thank you." The last piece of information she shared was that she was leaving town for a considerable amount of time and she would contact you herself. As you see, Miss Rowan intentionally used in her wording an adjective that is commonly used to describe pregnant women thus informing me of her condition _and_ her intention of keeping it a secret from you. Still, she entrusted me with this information, I can only assume, in hope for someone to share her secret with. And for me to pass it on to you at some point, because despite her wish to leave you unawares, in truth, she wanted exactly the opposite. Women are inconsistent this way.

"Since I was aware of the real situation, I had time to get used to the idea of you making big changes in your life, Archie, and by consequence, in mine. Although, your marriage to Miss Rowan was inevitable. Either marriage or final break up, the latter rather improbable to anyone, who has eyes and ears."

Our friends assuming that we eloped due to our mutual absences, but Nero Wolfe stating that my future is set and it is not behind the table in his office makes me feel conflicted. On one hand, Wolfe's confidence that I will compromise my professional integrity for a woman insults me as a detective, but on the other – his admittance to Lily being an integral part of not only my, but his life, is rather… heartwarming.

"And what is your reasoning behind this conclusion, sir?"

"She made up a murder just to see you and you introduced her to your mother. I can list other facts, but I can rest my case even with those two."

I can't argue with that. "Then why this farсe the other day? Why put Lily through the wringer? You know, she can't be stressed right now."

"Because despite you two being loyal, you are also impulsive and a decision to become a family cannot be made on impulse. I needed to know, I am losing you to a cause, you thought through. Although, losing to FBI has become a real possibility too."

"So my loyalty only goes as far as my personal life?" now this is just below the belt. I brushed the feds off the moment they even started talking about hiring me. That Assistant Director didn't even manage to finish the sentence, when I shut him up.

"I had an agreement with the FBI that they would forward me your reports. You had to send a report every three days during the first two weeks and the first two were couriered to me. The third one was brought to me personally by your handler or however they are called. He slapped the report onto my table and asked me, I quote: "Is he for real?"

"I confirmed it. It is doubtful, they ever saw in the whole FBI fifty pages long reports with transcripts of conversations of six interlocutors. Upon his leave, he wore an expression of uncovered greed and jealousy. I was sure that upon your return they will do _everything_ in their power to secure your services. With their resources there was a high possibility for them to archive their goal."

"I refused them right away. I walked out of there without even listening to their offer. Even if having those overwhelming resources you seem to believe they have, they could not possibly seduce me over."

"But you are currently considering it."

"This is in no way a betrayal even if you consider it one."

"Nonsense! A betrayal of whom? By whom?"

"Of _you_ by _me_. This is what it was all about in the first place. Right from the start."

"Archie, what are you-"

"First you bargain for the whole evening with the feds, describing in every tiny detail how my absence will hinder _your_ business if not destroy it. Finally, they agree to the ridiculous sum of three million. I felt extremely flattered, so I disregarded the notion that you have absolutely no care about me going head first into a dangerous operation. You just sold me, all the while worrying not about my well-being, but their ability to snatch me up right from under your nose! You even hid Lily's pregnancy from me, so I would stay away long enough not to discover it myself. All this 'losing me' plea is just a sham for me staying here, so _nothing would change,_ so you would still be our king, bossing us around to fulfill your own wishes.

"I've been running around, searching for this suitable man to replace me, doing everything for the transition to be smooth, for _you_ to be comfortable-"

"Are you through?"

And what am I expecting? A dressing down? Even a slap? No, that stone mask can be cracked only when his own house, pride or some other nonsense he considers threatened or insulted.

"I most definitely am." I toss the keychain with the house keys onto the table, the metal burning my fingers. "I'll uphold my promise to show Bernard the ropes, because I am a man of my word, but I am not going to stay under this roof a moment longer."

"Keep the keys, you will need them when you get the house."

"Why should I even want it?"

"You can sell it or burn it to the ground, but I am not planning on taking you out of my will, despite your leave of my employ or your current childish behavior."

I turn on my heels (when did I even get up?) and go straight for the door. I put my coat on, ignoring Fritz, who is pale as a ghost (he can serve dinner for one tonight, more for that glutton) and storm out and down the stairs I know every inch of. They can be easily forgotten, the raving rage inside me – not so much.

…

I come around, sitting on Lily's sofa with a tumbler of whiskey in front of my face. I have no idea how I managed to get here in one piece, though I am not surprised by the unconscious choice of my destination. Lily _is_ my home from home, but after tonight – my _only_ home. I gulp down the first glass and Lily pours me another one right away. I must look like I need it. I don't object to the third one, but the bottle is moved from my grasp.

"What in the world happened, Archie? I have never seen you so… murderous."

"I left the brownstone. For good."

"Okay… and why three months earlier than planned?"

So I tell her my whole conversation with Wolfe, ironically using the skill that I have been polishing during the years in his service.

"That power of yours is so uncanny. Nobody believes me, when I tell them about it, even after witnessing it firsthand. Unbelievable, even if I know, it happened exactly like you are saying. But seriously, Archie… It is me, who is supposed to be all hormonal with no control over my emotions. I can't imagine you saying these hurtful things. I mean, you _worship_ the man."

"And this is the worst of it… If the feds make me an offer you and I find agreeable, I will still think thrice about accepting because… because…"

"You still want his approval. You don't need mine though."

"Of course, I do. You were the one to say you do not me to be in danger."

"Yes, but I also said that I did not want you to stop being, who you are born to be. The FBI will be fools not to retain you. I will support you in any choice you make. But I am not going to agree with your actions tonight; because they are childish and disrespectful to Mister Wolfe."

"Have you heard what I've just told you, woman?! He knew about you and didn't tell me!"

"And what would have happened if he had told you? You would've dropped everything, completely compromising everything you worked for or you would've rushed to finish it as soon as possible. You would've been distracted and that could only lead to you getting hurt… or worse. I was just worried not knowing and not wanting to know what was going on with you, but Mister Wolfe read your reports, he knew exactly how much danger you were in. How do you think, he felt those five months?"

"Content, because he didn't need to work?"

"Don't be so shortsighted, Archie! I am sure, he was worried sick about you. And when I burdened him with my secret… And to clarify, I told him only because I was confused and scared, but I knew I could trust Mister Wolfe with respecting my privacy, to let us work it out by ourselves. And he could have just given you the rings (which is extremely sweet, by the way) and keep silent about my call, but he wanted you to know, to know that he was ready to let you go, even if he didn't want to lose you."

"Don't use this phrase, it makes me sick!"

"Why don't you even entertain the idea that Mister Wolfe truly cares about you? Remember, when he dressed up as a Santa Claus to check on your 'fiancée'? Haven't completely forgiven you for that one, by the way."

"He cares about me only because without me, there are no clients and without the clients, there is no money and with no money, he can't enjoy his lavish lifestyle. There is nothing personal about our relationship."

"Deep down you don't believe it and neither you want to believe it."

Our "deep" conversation is interrupted by ringing of the phone.

"If it is Wolfe, I am not here."

"Where else could you be, Archie? Mister Wolfe just has enough tact to wait for me to put your head straight."

"Enough tact? Preposterous!" I flinch at my usage of his phrasing. Is he so ingrained in me that I will never be truly free of him? Do I want to be free of him?

"Good evening, Mister Wolfe. Yes, Archie is here… You want to dictate me something? Surely Archie's shorthand – Oh, okay, let me get pen and paper… yes, I am ready, but speak slowly, please."

For the next seventeen minutes, as Lily writes down with great concentration something that Wolfe is telling her over the phone, I stop myself from looking over her shoulder, because, for some reason, I see it as _their_ moment. Lily is the only woman, whom he welcomed in his house, whom he respects. If his words about his confidence about our eventual marriage are to be believed, then Lily and I have been a… ticking bomb that would bring an end to my work for Wolfe. At any given day. So why did he indulge us? Didn't believe that I'll finally man up and pop the question? Well, he was right about that, no matter how hard it is for me to accept it. Despite me thinking about it for the last couple of years, I still found excuses not to go through with it.

And what are they talking about for so long?

"Thank you, Mister Wolfe, I think this is exactly what Archie wants to hear. Good bye, Mister Wolfe."

"And what is it that I possibly want to hear?"

"Please, read this. Till the end."

I take the piece of paper, covered with shorthand marks and focus on the top line with slight trepidation. Why does it feel like this piece of paper contains his last words to me? And I am not going to lie to myself by thinking that I do not want them to be meaningful. But back at the matter at hand.

 _Dear Archie, first of all, I would like to apologize-_

The paper falls down onto the floor since my fingers stiffen from shock. Wolfe has never apologized for anything, at least not to me. I am gotten out of my stupor by Lily putting the missive back into my hands. And is she giggling? Alright, let's just get it over with.

 _\- apologize for my late words and actions that could indeed be interpreted in the wrong way. Before you think that the previous sentence insults your intellectual capabilities –_ It definitely does. – _I would like to clarify that it was my fault, or better to say, my choice to choose this strategy to, on one hand, to alienate us so the parting would be easier for the both of us, on the other – to hide how hard it will be for me to part ways with you, even if it is a natural order of life._

 _Today you told Mister Cramer that I had been bluffing and there was no special reason I had hired you. It was logical for you to reach such a conclusion, even if it was the wrong one. I suggested for you to be my assistant not because of your timber to be a good detective, but also because I saw in you some of my younger self: no money, no work, but a lot of drive and strength to archive your goals. I accepted that your work under me would be only a stepping stone for you and when the economical crisis ended, you would leave in search of better application of your talents that you have in abundance._

 _Your two predecessors (I am sure, you are aware of them, but you are tactful enough never to ask about them) stayed with me for eight and six months respectfully. When I hired you, I made a prognosis of two years at most, because I am very knowledgeable how insufferable I can be. And yet it has been seventeen years. When Mister Cramer asked you about your motivation for staying for so long with no benefits and a rather obnoxious boss, your answer pleasantly surprised me, As you know, I had an adopted daughter, but our connection was forced by the circumstances and was based on obligation. She was my daughter on paper, but I was blessed for the good deed unknown to me with a true family, with you, Archie, being an important part of it._

 _While being here, Miss Rowan said that I should let you go if it makes you happy. The happiness of an employee is not a matter of concern for the employer, but if you view me only in this capacity, you are not just an employee to me even if I had probably never treated you differently in your opinion. Your happiness is important to me, particularly since I know how precious it is to find someone, who makes you feel this way._

 _After you left today, I called the Assistant Director you walked out on and told him that they were free to make you a fair offer that considers your new personal circumstances and that they would be fools not to pursue you no matter the cost._

"So what do you think, Archie?"

"Your shorthand is atrocious, Lily."

"Can you be serious for just a moment?!"

"I am."

"So you'll make up tomorrow?"

"Well, you know, how it is in the family. We fight, we make up."

"Good to hear."

….

The next morning we arrive at the brownstone at 11.10 a.m. It is done on purpose, since I want to finish our talk where it was started. Why did Lily decide to tag along, I have no idea, but no one can deter this woman and I am not going to even try. I push the doorbell and the door is opened by Fritz even before I remove my finger from the button.

"Oh, Archie, you are back," he mumbles, looking forlorn. "Oh, and Miss Rowan."

Fritz clearly does not support the idea of me leaving and for a woman no less. But then again… his loyalty to Wolfe in unquestionable and boundless. Wolfe and particularly Wolfe's stomach will always be Fritz's first priority. To each his own.

"Has Cramer Junior arrived already?"

"Yes, he is waiting in the front room. Is it true then?"

"Could very well be. I need to exchange some words with Mister Wolfe and then we will get this show on the road. Can you wait with Bernard, Lily?"

"Of course, she can! I haven't seen you for months!"

It is strange, how I had followed Bernard Cramer for a week, burning with jealousy and how I can watch the same man hug my fiancée with no wish to stop him. World works in mysterious ways.

"Fritz told me you and Mister Wolfe had an… altercation yesterday. Is it true, Archie?"

"He is exaggerating, as always. It was just a disagreement."

I move down the hallway in what is supposed to be a confident stride (we have never had an actual fight, not once in seventeen years, unbelievable! so I have no idea what exactly I am doing), but I pause in front of the office door, when I hear Lily say, "You know, how it is with fathers and sons."

"Oh, I know too well, Lily."

With Bernard and his explosive father being in the same profession…. That must be tough. Me and… well…

"Morning, Archie, slept well?"

And I am not letting yesterday to be water under the bridge. "I am not accepting your apology… until you accept mine. My behavior and words yesterday were out of line. And I apologize."

"Hm…"

He continues to sort through the letters. I count to twenty and then again, since I am sure Wolfe wants to make me sweat and I allow it, but not for more than fifty seconds. After that it is plain rude, which is not completely unexpected, but I am not letting him walk all over me this time. Forty eight...

"They were out of line, but they were not entirely wrong or uncalled for. But your apology is accepted."

"Yours as well… I am going to settle Bernard in the guest room and we will come down for instructions for Kingsbury widow case."

"Satisfactory."

Does he have a twinkle in his eye? What in the world?.. And is this the leather box with the rings on my desk? I put the box into my coat pocket and turn for the stairs and he _still_ has that twinkle…

…

"I am glad it is you, Archie."

"Excuse me?" I check if there are towels in the guest bathroom and return to Bernard, who is making himself at home rather fast. Working undercover must give you strange habits of packing and unpacking in minutes.

"You and Lily. She is like a sister to me. And you know, she was rather wild in her youth. But then she met you."

"You are overestimating me. We have never been completely exclusive. I learned recently, she has been proposed to by several men."

"And yet…"

"And yet, she is marrying me in four weeks."

"Can you tell me truthfully… If it wasn't for the baby…"

"I bought a ring fourteen months ago. It's not even in the house. I keep it in my personal safe deposit box."

"That is… beyond my comprehension. I know that I will never match your level of devotion, but I will do my best."

And he does. Bernard is an extremely fast learner. His skill of adaptation is indeed remarkable. He can anticipate Wolfe's whims after only five weeks. I watch their interactions, Bernard's cautious assertiveness and Wolfe's unexpressed satisfaction (at least verbally), and Bernie's good mood tells me that he sees it too. Now who would've thought that Cramer's son would be a perfect match for Nero Wolfe? Highly satisfactory, Archie. No gratitude from the big fat genius, of course.

I've been putting off one call for some time and I don't even know why since it is one of the numbers I can dial blindfolded and asleep. But it is not fair to Lily. So I go to my room (it won't be mine soon, half of the things is already sent to Lily's place, but I am sure, I will refer to it as mine for months to come, if not years) and dial the number of one of my closest friends.

"Cohen," barks from the receiver.

"Hey, Lon, it's Archie. I need a favor."

"You and your favors! Don't you remember? You owe _me._ "

"And you have all the right to collect, but after this one."

"Shoot."

"I know it is not your department, but I would appreciate if you do it personally."

"Don't drag it out, just get on with it."

"I would like you to place a wedding announcement."

"Okay."

"Of Lily Rowan and Archie Goodwin. The ceremony is to be held at their residence on the 26th of May. Only family and close friends are invited. You can make some additions, I trust you to make it right."

"So what case is it? Must be something big for such an elaborate ruse."

"It's no ruse, Lon. You will get your invitation in a couple of days."

"So it's for real? You are getting married?"

"Yes."

" _You_ are getting married?!"

"I am insulted, you think of me this way. And technically we got married last week, you can confirm with Saul, he was my witness."

"You asked _Saul_ and not _me_?!"

"Lon, you are aware that one does not invite a reporter to an event one wants to conceal from the masses."

"Oooh, I am even more intrigued. Could Miss Rowan be in a family way? What a scandal!"

"Easy on the sarcasm, Lon. And yes, she is. She is due in seven weeks."

And then there is silence. I am used to Lon responding to multiple calls at once with other phones ringing off the hooks, but at that moment there is a serene silence and then, "How could you do this to me?! How could you deprive me, your friend, who helped you, when nobody else did, from this front page news?!"

"Common, Lon, stop exaggerating."

"The editor will have my head!"

"How much money did you lose? And who could possibly bet on either my or Lily's personal life?"

"A harpy from the gossip section. She is hot, but she is a harpy like no other. She will sweep in here, demanding her hundred the moment she sees the announcement."

"Prepare your wallet then, friend. And you tux. You know where to send the bill. You can bring the harpy to the wedding, since she somehow knows more than you."

Lon does his job too well (clearly on purpose). The next morning our phone is not only spitting lava - the line is so hot from the calls. I get to the phone booth on the corner to contact Lily, advice her to disconnect her phone and do the same with ours. The clients can come in person if they are desperate enough.

…..

The stage is set, all players are in their places. Inspector Cramer is occupying the red chair, spasmodically glancing at my table where his son is sitting, looking quite comfortable (and he has been for a couple of weeks with me placing myself at the other side of the table purely in an observational role), two rows of yellow chairs are filled with cream of the New York's lawyers' world. They hired Wolfe to investigate the illegitimate heirs of a telecommunication magnate, who were left so much money that I've never seen so many zeros. I have not also seen so many zeros on the retainer check so, of course, Wolfe agreed to take the case that initially seemed only about tailing and background checks. But with this much money involved… Before we know it, we are up to our necks in murder investigation with both heirs dying a suspicious death. Bernard takes point on this one with _three_ 'satisfactory' that led up to this meeting. Saul and Fred stand by the wall, Stebbins – by the door. Wolfe is gearing up for the big reveal, he is going to name the culprit in the next sentence (by my estimation). The tension is almost palpable. There are _millions_ at stake… And there is a faint echo of the phone ring from the kitchen. I pay it no mind (as everybody else in the room), Fritz will take the massage as he usually does under such circumstances. But he doesn't. Our esteemed chef appears in the doorframe, looking shaken and lost for words which is understandable, because something like this has _never_ happened.

Wolfe refocuses on Fritz, who (let's be frank, looks like a deer in the headlights with all those important rich people staring at him) and raises his eyebrow in a silent question.

"It's for Archie, from the hospital."

After receiving a nod of permission from the boss, I move in a daze through the maze of chairs towards the main door. There is a thought at the very back of my consciousness that I've never left the office during a meeting with a client if I wasn't explicitly instructed to do so. I hear Cramer's bark of something like: "And where does he think he is going?" with Wolfe answering: "Family emergency."

I like the sound of that.

….

"Nero Wolfe's residence, Bernard Cramer speaking."

"What are you doing up at five in the morning?"

"Why are you calling at five in the morning? Five-seventeen, for calls' register. I took over from Fritz, who kept watch till three. So you have some news to share?"

"It's a boy."

"Does the baby have your ugly mug?"

"Too early to tell, but he has my eyes. And Lily's nose."

"You decided on the name?"

"Yes, but-"

"Let's hear it then."

"Neil Nero Goodwin. But we haven't asked-"

"For Heaven's sake, Archie! It's your son, you can name him however you want!"

There is a click, indicating the disconnection of the parallel line.

"I don't know about you, Archie, but to me that sounded like a permission."

"A rather angry one, not that he'd sound happy even if he was."

"He does care, Archie."

People worry about those they care about. The working phone line at five in the morning expresses a lot.

…

"You sent the invoice to Missis Kingsbury?"

"Yes, Archie."

"And the selection data from last week?"

"All done. Stop worrying, you are leaving everything in good hands."

I look around the office that has become a place I know every crook and cranny of. The globe, the desks, the books... even the chairs – I will not see or dust them again tomorrow. It's a strange feeling which I did not have when leaving my homestead in Ohio.

"You will take care of him, right?"

"Of course, Archie."

"I know, it is not in your job description (little actually is), but… at his age… If you could watch out for his health… Fritz tries to maintain a diet and he gradually decreases the beer intake, but _very_ gradually, and -"

"I completely understand, Archie. Dad is actually forced into early retirement. He would've run down criminals for five more years if not longer, but he had a mild heart attack and the doctors recommended to leave the stressful environment. Dad is not happy about it, obviously."

"Do you think, they can become friends now, with them now not being natural enemies?"

"If Mister Wolfe does not mind an additional guest at dinner, I don't see why the bridges cannot be built. It's almost eleven. I'll go upstairs, so you could say your goodbyes."

It is indeed almost eleven. Last night I went through the words I will say over and over again and nothing seemed right or enough. Should I even say anything special or just announce my departure and leave the same way I've been doing for years?

There is the сlang of the lift's doors opening and I find myseld face to face with my soon to be former boos.

"Good. You are still here."

"Last instructions?"

"I have no right to give you any instructions, Archie. It is now the job of your FBI superiors. Hopefully, they will not waste your talents on petite cases. These are for Missis Goodwin. I trust, she is in good health?"

Only now I notice that instead of a single orchid that Wolfe usually places into the vase on his desk, he carries a rather large flower arrangement in an ornate vase. How could I possibly not notice _that_? The nerves make me feel like a school boy again.

"Mother? Yes, she is well. I telephoned her yesterday about the news."

"I meant the newlywed Missis Goodwin."

"Ah, yes, Lily if fine. Recovering. Not used to her new name either." I will never forgive myself if I continue to blabber like this.

"It is good to hear. It is uncanny how I thought this would come only a few years of you moving in, but when it did not, my mind assumed it would never come. But here we are."

"And will never be again."

"Indeed. You have my gratitude."

"For what?"

"To your praise, the list is incredibly long. I have to say that the house will never be the same without you."

"You have Bernard now. In a couple of months, you won't even notice the difference. At some point, you won't even remember I sat at that table."

"No, those memories will never be forgotten."

"Likewise."

We shake hands. My things have already been sent away. I don't need to take anything else, but the flowers for 'Missis Goodwin' (I wonder if Wolfe will ever use her first name, even if she gave explicit permission to do so). I carry the vase out to the cab and give the driver the address of my new home and my new family.

…..

 _~Seven years later~_

The same seven steps, the same door and the chime of the door bell… Of course, I've visited the brownstone on several occasions after the change of employers, but every time I go up those stairs, the wave of nostalgia engulfs me and somehow it hasn't eased up with time.

Today is a very special day – Nero Wolfe's 65th birthday. Despite never celebrating staff birthdays in any special way, it was decided (I am glad, I don't know by whom, since I surely wouldn't want to be present at _that_ discussion, shouting match more like) to actually organize a celebratory dinner with presents! That was the exact wording on our invitation. I tilt my head to the side to prompt Lily to push the bell since my hands are full with Neil and the presents, but even if they weren't, I never use the key that I still keep on my key chain. On principle.

Saul opens the door since Fritz must be buried in the kitchen and Bernie is setting up the table. We step into the hallway with Neil attempting to rush to the office to play with the globe, he became enraptured with on his first visit two years ago, which happened more or less by accident.

There was no need to say out loud Wolfe's opinion on children, mainly them being a nuisance until they graduate school, so we didn't even try to initiate contact. But one day, I had to bring Neil to the doctor and then deliver some reports to Wolfe since FBI hired him for a case with me being the obvious liaison. The doctor visit took longer than planned, but I managed to park near the brownstone only five minutes after six, but with Neil in tow. Even knowing Wolfe as well as I did, I had no idea about the outcome of that meeting.

After Fritz overcame the shock at seeing my companion, I put him on nanny duty in the front room. Reporting took longer than I planned and, as children usually do, Neil found an opening the moment Fritz went to bring him some juice to barge on full speed into Wolfe's office while he was giving me instructions. My attention became divided between the running toddler, calling for his daddy at the top of his lungs and the last point of instructions so, to my great regret, I didn't manage to see Wolfe's face the moment his eyes landed on his namesake.

I grabbed the crying child and put him on me lap, profusely apologizing for I don't even know what. For bringing the child or for Neil's crying or both. But suddenly there is silence – Neil got the globe into his sights and was staring at it as if was the most wonderful thing in the world and to a four-year-old, it could very well be.

"He does look a lot like you, Archie."

"Da, who's that?"

I didn't die from shame only because Neil didn't point at Wolfe as if he was just another object in the room, although, he did stretch his little hand to touch the unknown.

"That's Grandpa Nero, Neil. He and Daddy need to finish some work and then we'll go home to Mummy. And here is Uncle Fritz, who will play with you until we are done here, alright?"

"But I want ball!"

"Maybe later, when you can actually read what's written there."

"But-"

"Archie, just let the boy see the globe. It will not fall on him."

Thus the master of the house gave permission for the tiny hands to spin the enormous globe with squeals of cheer on every turn _and_ call him grandpa, to which he didn't comment ergo did not disapprove.

Saul seems to be given the task of greeting the guests, so he helps us with the coats and leads to the dining room which has been considerably rearranged to fill in, as it looks, a considerable number of guests.

The overall house has not changed much over the years, at least I am not aware of those changes not being the permanent resident anymore. I do, however, know of two of them. The first one is a picture frame in Wolfe's bedroom from Lily's and mine wedding. We both thought that Wolfe's participation would be limited to appearing at the event (which would be a miracle on its own) and escorting my mother (to which he agreed to more or less under duress, so we were expecting him to find an excuse to get out of it), but not only did he attend and entertained Missis Goodwin the time she was in town (according to mother's later communication she had splendid fun), Wolfe not even insisted, but demanded that the centerpieces could be whatever we wanted, but the bridal bouquet must be of Rowana Ray orchids. And so it was, as is depicted on the photo of the wedding party.

The other, rather radical change, is the new female inhabitant of the brownstone on the Western 35th Street. Shocking, I know. The process started three years after Bernard became Wolfe's eyes, ears and legs. The tradition of Thursday card game remained now with inclusion of Bernie. One Thursday he looked rather ill, but denied any problems, the next week he looked even worse (not to mention, his game was hands down awful), so we demanded to know if there was some difficult case (for which neither Saul nor Fred were engaged) or Wolfe was just driving him insane. Bernie kept silent, but three professional interrogators and a journalist present, it was hard not to spill the beans. It turned out that young Bernard was in love, which was tragic since he "didn't want to leave Mister Wolfe!" The man was close to tears. As I said: "your God and your Devil" whether you want it or not.

The object of Bernard's affections came out to be Sally Corbett, whom he met, when there was a need to hire a female detective. According to Bernie's account of events, it was love at first sight on his part. He had no knowledge about the other party, but he knew very well Mister Wolfe's opinion on the subject.

"You can't do this to yourself, Bernie. I am sure, he has mellowed a bit since my departure."

"He will toss me out and that's that! And I don't want to go! I _like_ it there! You were with him for over fifteen years and you were still afraid to raise the topic, what right do _I_ have?"

"My only advice is to ask for flowers, then you will both know your answer. I am not sure, but I think, Wolfe understood that Lily was not just a one-time dance partner when I started to ask for specific orchids."

And so the courting commenced. As much as I wanted to watch the new battle of wills, I came to witness some of the conversations over the card table since FBI was working me raw. During one of such meetings, Bernard shared Sally's letter to Wolfe, which was later framed and put up into the newlyweds' bedroom. The text of the letter was the following:

 _Dear Mister Wolfe,_

 _I am sure, you are knowledgeable of your assistant's and mine relationship that has been going on for nineteen months. Bernard does not know this, but I am aware of his intention to propose marriage to me, but also of his hesitation to do it due to the complications it may bring to his work situation. I would like to list several points to elevate the tension of this standstill._

 _Due to health issues, I cannot bear children._

 _I am not going to quit working even after the wedding._

 _In case of my moving into your house, which is preferable, I will not attempt to change anything in your lifestyle or interior._

 _I am sure, one of the reasons for Your wish not to share the house with a married couple is based on the displeasure of witnessing the family drama. It can't be completely avoided, but so far both Bernie and I showed themselves as rational and collected people, who do not burst into feats of anger. Soundproof walls do help with such matters._

 _If our staying in your residence is not in any way possible, there are several flats in the neighborhood available for rent._

 _Everything else can be negotiated to keep balance in our personal and professional lives._

And that was how Sally Cramer nee Corbett became part of the family. Not only did the Cramers got a soundproof bedroom, but Wolfe remodeled a whole floor for them to have large and comfortable quarters. I did feel a bit jealous at the special treatment, but that was everybody were happy _and_ Wolfe had finally bended his unbreakable rule even if it wasn't for me.

The dining room is slowly feeling up with the guests: there are Felix Courbet from Rusterman's, Nathaniel Parker, Doctor Volmer, Lewis Hewitt, Lon Cohen, Bascom, Fred with his wife, Theodor Horstmann and other prominent orchid collectors, even Cramer Senior makes an appearance, dressed in a rather good suit. I am so used to see him in a gray coat that I almost don't recognize him. Retirement seems to agree with him. Not that they agree with Wolfe more, but discussions in a level tone _are_ being held over beer or cognac, or so I've heard.

Toasts are made, exclusive food is consumed with Rusterman's staff serving under Fritz's hawk's eyes, despite him sharing the table with us for the first time in ever. The dinner is followed by a more informal mingling with drinks and showing of the greenhouse. Sally is looking after Neil, and even if they cannot have children, it is clear, at least to Lily and I, that that doesn't mean they don't want any.

By some design, I find myself in the office. Behind my table. My former table.

"Reliving old memories, Archie?"

I look at the man of the hour in the door frame. How can such a large man move so quietly, I will never know.

"No, sir, just taking a breather. Wonderful party. Bernie's idea?"

"To an extent. I would like to discuss something with you. When are you available?"

"Tomorrow is fine."

"Tomorrow then. Eleven o'clock."

I don't know, what is going on, but it sounds serious. I am not in a party mood anymore.

…

The next day, at 11 a.m. sharp, I enter the brownstone with trepidation and, I won't lie, excitement. Fritz lets me in, there is no sight of either Bernard or Sally. What's going on? Didn't Wolfe want to consult on a case?

The world's greatest and fattest detective has already settled behind his desk with a beer. There is also a glass of milk on the table beside the red chair. Why do I have this sense of déjà vu of Cramer asking me to meet me in a hotel room, concerning the "murder" by the FBI agents?

"Archie."

"Mister Wolfe. On that note, the only person at the party yesterday to use your first name was my son, which is rather… ironic."

"Other Goodwins should follow his example. Children do tell the truth."

I almost spill my milk all over Wolfe's table. There can't be any other meaning in that phrase, right?

"So what did you want to talk about, … sir?" I can't just do it. Maybe when I'll gather myself from the shock of receiving such unique privilege.

"I understand, the FBI is treating you well?"

"Can't complain."

"You have been promoted twice."

"On my own merit."

"Indubitably. As you likely to remember, I informed you about the content of my will on your account."

A cold fist squeezes my heart. He doesn't look ill, so why?

"Yes, I remember. Is there a reason to review your will? Are you changing it?"

"No, I am not. Some years ago, Fritz shared with me his aspiration to publish a cookbook. He has been working on it for close to twenty years now."

What cookbook?! Is he playing me or has he gone senile?!

"We have been working on it together for the last three years, but it requires time and concentration. Two months ago Theodor informed me of his wish to move to the country to the garden of his deceased parents' house. This was the deciding factor to bring about my plan to retire."

"Retire?!"

"Everybody do that when time comes."

"But where? How? What's your plan for finances?"

"There is a private residence just outside city limits that was gifted to me recently and I have made several plans to insure our financial stability. Which brings me back to the will and the house. Do you still wish to have your own investigation agency?"

"Let me clarify. You want me to take over?"

"In a matter of speaking, since it will be your own agency and office the way you want it to be. You had one before, at least this time the décor could be more… tasteful."

"But what about Bernard and Sally? Shouldn't they be the ones?"

"I am sure that by now you are familiar with the wish to leave a legacy. That is why, I would prefer for you to be the one to be the next detective in this office. Of course, you have the right to refuse. The Cramers are informed of the situation. You can become partners or you can stay with the FBI. Choose whatever is best for you."

"You said the day I left that this house would not be the same without me, the same can be said about you. I cannot imagine myself working or living here without you present. The mere thought of changing something here…" Although I can't stop my mind from drawing pictures of all possibilities of remodeling and repurposing of the rooms.

"Nothing and nobody are eternal, Archie. Change is natural, otherwise we will die of stagnation."

"You do understand that the words about the evolution and naturalism of change for the person, who has the same day schedule for over twenty years, sound false if not hypocritical."

"Indeed. I understand your bitterness about my treatment of the Cramers-"

"I am not bitter."

"Don't deny it, Archie. It is completely understandable to feel resentment in this case."

"If you are giving me the house to make up for not allowing us to live here in the first place-"

"No, the house was bequeathed to you long before your work for the FBI or your engagement."

"And when was that if I am inquire?"

"Ironically, when the house was put on the market during the Zeck affair."

And that was a long time ago and that says a lot or maybe I just want it to be this way.

"I will need to make some calls, talk to some people. Do I have a time limit?"

"About three months. Also, half of the flowers have already been sold. You shoul hurry if you want to send flowers for your mother's birthday."

"Sending flowers from New York to Ohio? That's a shipping nightmare. I am sure, you know a company that specializes in such deliveries. You can send them yourself. Mother will be pleased to be the last woman the flowers from your green house went to."

"I will make the arrangements then if you do not mind."

"I most certainly don't. By the way, Lily will kill me if I deny her the opportunity so we will come together when the decision is reached. Good day, …Nero."

"Good day, Archie."

Wo- Nero's mouth's corner raises a quarter of an inch. This is definitely a smile or I cannot call myself an expert anymore.

…

"Why are you asking me? You knew your answer not even before you left the building, but before you even left the office. This is what you always wanted, Archie. And what Mister Wolfe always wanted for you."

Lily does have a talent not to beat around the bush, particularly when I need her to be truthful. To some such bluntness can be disconcerting or even offensive, but since I face liars all day long, I prefer not to listen to them at home too. Lily always knows what I need to hear. How was I blessed this way? Oh yes, there was a bull involved.

"So you want me to leave FBI?"

"You can subcontract for them if they ask you really nicely. Have you already talked to Bernard and Sally?"

"Yes, they are all in. Forty percent in my favor with the Cramers splitting the other sixty."

"Can I apply for a silent partner?"

"You think, we will go bankrupt without your financial backing?"

"Quite the contrary. I believe the dividends will be through the roof."

"You know, I am no Nero Wolf. Neither I am twenty anymore."

"Archie, he called you his legacy. Do you understand what it means? You are the son, he never had. Mister Wolf knows you are ready."

"Nero."

"What?"

"He extended the privilege to all Goodwins."

"See! It is meant to be."

"Lon will have kittens, when I tell him."

"He better put it on the front page."

….

 _~Five months later~_

"Goodwins and Cramers' Investigations, Sally Cramer speaking. How can we assist you?"

 **Thanks to all, who found time to read this strange piece of rather sentimental fiction, but I am a woman so… I am quite aware that I have not done Nero Wolve justice, but I tried my best. In this fic I attempted to show Archie-Wolve dynamics as boss-employee, master-slave, father-son.**

 **In the beginning, I was concentrating on Archie/Lily story line, but it kinda grew and the meaning of "father hunt" widened. I can be wrong, but I do not remember Archie mentioning his father at all. I think, he writes at some point, that he wrote letter to his mother and that she came to the city once, but I could be imagining it. But I do not remember mentioning of his father, even if his name is known. My supposition is that Archie father died in the First World War, so he grew up without a father thus later making Wolve a father figure. But it is my personal vision.**


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